


What Dreams May (make me) Come

by thunderpuffin429



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF (kind of)
Genre: Dream Sex, Hand Jobs, M/M, Misha ships it, Mutual Masturbation, Wet Dream, reasonably mild but still hot dirty talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 16:33:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5424119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderpuffin429/pseuds/thunderpuffin429
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which both Cas and Misha have naughty thoughts about Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Dreams May (make me) Come

**Author's Note:**

> I have a Destiel AU on the go which will have an actual plot... but in the meantime I wanted to get this out of my head and into the community!

"Okay, so you had a dream," Dean repeated. “And?"

Cas frowned. "and it was..." he finally settled on the appropriate word. "...explicit." 

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Oh," he said, and couldn't hide the smirk that overtook his mouth.

"Well that'll happen Cas, now that you're a real boy!"

He winked at the former angel, and tapped him affectionately on the leg as he stood up to get another beer.

Cas rolled his eyes impatiently. "Many psychology experts have written that dreams about sex are rarely actually about sex, Dean. They often have an entirely different underlying meaning. Commonly it’s to do with an inner conflict or an acceptance of change or… "

"Right,” Dean interrupted. “But sometimes it just means you're horny and your subconscious did you a favour."

There was a pause.

Dean found it amusing and endearing that this ages-old ex-celestial being was so thrown by having to go through all this adolescent Judy Blume crap now that he was devoid of his heavenly mojo. 

"So, come on man,” Dean teased. “Who was starring in your little midnight movie? Gimme all the gory details!"

"I'm not sure you'd be entirely comfortable with that Dean."

"Cas, there is nothing your little holy imagination could throw up that I haven't seen on a cheap motel TV. Hit me."

"The dream involved you, Dean."

The hand that was holding Dean's beer bottle froze about a millimetre from his mouth. Cas' statement was matter-of-fact; clearly he was still not human enough to get that you're meant to be embarrassed by sex-dreams about your friends. He didn't even have the good grace to break eye contact. 

He elaborated, picking his words carefully; "We were standing up, and kissing, and we, um, brought each other to orgasm using our hands."

Dean's heartbeat increased ridiculously, and without warning. He lowered his arm, but his feet were frozen to the floor. His mouth opened with the intention to form some words, but nothing coherent was forthcoming. 

The picture Cas had just painted for him was hardly the most descriptive porn he’d ever experienced, but the sizzling images it had conjured had planted themselves in Dean’s brain and seemed determined to stay put.

Flashes of him and Cas breathing heavily into each other’s mouths while they stroked each other to climax, the idea of Cas’ eyes closing as he came in Dean’s hand, the sound of Cas’ voice, which was sexy and deep by default anyway, but oh god what it would sound like when laced with arousal and muttering filth into Dean’s ear. This was all too much for Dean’s much-neglected-of-late libido.  

"When I woke up," Cas continued. "I discovered that I had..." He exhaled and chewed slightly on the inside of his cheek.

 _He's nervous_ , thought Dean. _Why is that hot? Shit._  

Cas found the rest of his sentence; "I discovered that I had ejaculated in my sleep".

"Jesus Cas, you had a wet dream?" Dean’s voice came out higher than he planned.

Cas considered the definition, and nodded.

"About me?" Dean breathed.

Cas nodded again. He stood up straight, pushing himself up from where he'd been leaning against the table, and started to move slowly towards where Dean stood in front of the refrigerator. Dean shifted, anxiously.

When Cas spoke again his voice had dropped half an octave. "And every time I think about it, I get..." 

"Get what?" Dean said, his voice breaking, he hoped imperceptibly.

"Hard." Cas virtually growled, and stopped about two feet away.

Dean was not prepared for how his body reacted to the sound of Cas saying that word. He was suddenly very hot, and his breathing had become shallow, and certain areas below his clothes were showing a distinct and very obvious interest in the conversation.

"Say that again," he said, softly.

Cas raised one eyebrow, and cocked his head to one side. "What, hard?"

Dean let out a small involuntary moan. "Yeah. Say it again."

Cas knew what was happening, knew Dean better than anyone. He closed the gap between them by another step.

"Hard." He somehow managed to give it more than one syllable.

Dean swallowed, and put his bottle down on the counter next to him. "One more time."

Cas smiled, and licked his lips. He locked eyes with the hunter, and spoke quietly, more bass in his tone than ever.

"Hard".

Dean closed his eyes, trying and failing to keep composed. He moved so his face was just inches from Cas' ear. He was so turned on that when he spoke his voice rivalled Cas’ for gravel content.

"Are you – _hard_ – right now, Castiel?"

Cas trembled with pleasure at Dean using his full name. He hadn't called him that for so long.

"Yes," he whispered. "Very". Green eyes met blue, both sets on fire. “You make me so hard, Dean Winchester.”

Dean’s body made a decision to act before his mind had a chance to contribute an opinion. He reached out his hand and started feeling Cas through his pants, while at the same time he leant forward to kiss Cas’ neck and jaw, nibbling at his earlobe as he passed it, because apparently all it takes is one confession of a nocturnal emission and now Dean wants Cas any and every way he can.

Cas groaned with relief at Dean’s touch.

“Oh, Dean,” he sighed. “Yes…”

Cas was so full of confusing feelings these days; never knew whether he was going to wake up happy, sad, grumpy or scared from one day to the next, but one thing he was certain of. One thing was constant. He wanted Dean. He’d always wanted him, but in a spiritual way only. They were bonded in an indescribable and unbreakable way, and he craved the proximity of Dean’s soul.

Now, however, the need was carnal as well. Cas thought about Dean’s body in a way he never had before. Found him so attractive it was maddening. The appropriate colloquialism would be that he had a ‘crush’, but this was _Dean,_ so he knew it was more serious than that. Maybe Cas was in love. He didn’t know what that felt like, so he couldn’t be sure. Whatever it was, his crotch was insisting on taking immediate action. 

Dean pulled back and stared into his friend’s lustful face as he fumbled to remove Cas’ pants, which were straining against his now unbelievably solid cock. Before long the belt was undone, the zip was lowered, and the smartly-pressed suit pants were pushed down Cas’ legs, along with his underwear. It all fell down around his ankles as Dean got back to work on that neck, pulling Cas in close so that their hip bones connected. Cas stepped out of his lower garments, pushing his socks off with his toes at the same time.

Dean decided that half-naked wasn’t naked enough, so he unbuttoned Cas’ shirt and pushed it off his shoulders, revealing inches of gorgeous chest and stomach that definitely desperately needed Dean’s tongue all over them. But before he could make contact, Cas suddenly took Dean’s head in his hands and kissed him with a passion that took the hunter’s breath away. It was simultaneously soft and firm, with just the right amount of tongue, and so intense that Dean thought he might pass out.

When Cas broke away, Dean had his eyes closed, uncharacteristically allowing himself to get lost in the moment.

“Fuck,” he uttered reverently, eyes still shut.

When he opened them, Cas was looking at him like a starving man would look at a rump steak. Dean abandoned all dignity and control at that point, and stripped himself at speed. Clothes thrown everywhere, the two men finally got their hands back on each other, and were kissing and grinding in earnest.

Cas smiled at the knowledge that it was possible for dreams to really come true, and put his hand down in between their bodies to take hold of Dean’s cock. Dean jumped at the contact, and gasped, but didn’t break his kissing stride. He followed suit by clasping Cas’ dick, and the two of them pumped each other up and down, too overtaken by their hormones to give the activity any finesse, just getting closer and closer to the inevitable gratification, inarticulate sounds tumbling from their mouths.

Eventually the kissing was forsaken, and they just held each other round the back of their necks, resting their foreheads together, panting and looking down to watch the erotic display between them.

Cas was first to the finish line.

“Dean,” he gasped. “Dean, Dean, I’m gonna… aaaah… oh, oh…. I’m coming Dean… Dean I’m coming!”

He was practically screaming with pleasure by the time he spilled over Dean’s fist. Dean filled with pride knowing that he had induced such a powerful orgasm, and he followed Cas over the edge, repeating the angel’s name over and over as he came with a shudder.

“Cas… Cas, oh my god, Cas… _fuck_ … oh Cas, Cas, Cas…”

The scene melted away, and Misha woke up, increasingly aware of the damp sensation underneath him that was dragging him back into consciousness.

"Well, that's awkward".

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [ (come tumbl with me)](https://tumblr.com/blog/celestial-Destiel-thunderpuffin)


End file.
